One Week After
by Evildevilangel
Summary: Sequel to "The Morning After" in the "Spark" series, in which important conclusions are drawn and eye contact is eventually made. Rated for LANGUAGE ONLY.


Rook had to stop fucking _staring_. He knew he was doing it. The boys thought it was all a part of their little "therapy" game, but he just couldn't fucking stop fucking staring. The stupid professor wouldn't even look at him normal-like, all shifty glances from the corners of his eyes and then jumping back to his notes.

Rook wanted to know what was so fucking important in those notes. Was he in them? Probably said something 'bout how he was reckless and stupid. He wondered if the professor had a page for himself labeled 'crazy fucking lunatic who doesn't know shit'. Rook grinned slightly. Perhaps he would add it to the professor's secret collection in the suitcase.

When Thom stood, the airman counted to five, slowly, before following him. He'd been doing it all week, hoping to get a few seconds alone with the rat. But every time he followed, the professor found Adamo or Balfour or headed into another crowded area. Fucking hiding from him like _he'd_ been the one to leave. Every time he stepped into his room, or saw the rat, or had to talk about the rat, or did just about any damn thing, Rook wanted to tear something up worse than he ever had in his entire life. Not just hit or push or fuck, but _destroy_ until it was in little bitty pieces.

He followed the rat down the corridor into the kitchen that was mercifully empty. They were alone. He was alone with-

"Go away," said Thom quietly.

"I live here." Rook did his best saunter over to the cupboard and looked for something that needed making.

"Be that way." The rat fucking shuddered, like Rook'd said something real hurtful.

He wanted hurtful, huh? Suddenly, Thom was on the floor clutching his jaw and Rook was standing over him, heaving with the effort of not beating him into the floor. "Be like what? Like a fucking _crazy_?" He kicked the green-eyed man in the ribs as he scuttled away.

"Oh, _I'm _crazy, yeah," Thom whispered as he pulled himself up with a counter.

What the hell did that even _mean_? The airman grabbed Thom by the throat and dragged him back into the kitchen proper. "Yeah, you are. Don't recall _I _was the one who did the jumpin' or the leavin'." He spat at the memory.

"Put me down," said the professor, still using his quiet steely voice.

"What if I say no?" asked Rook, shoving him against the pantry door.

Thom was quiet a moment before he shrugged. "Whatever."

The airman snarled as he threw the smaller man to the floor. "Guess that's how it always is with you. Ain't good manners to give a fucking shit." He turned to leave the rat in peace.

"Couldn't expect more from a gossiping whoremonger."

"A _what_?" He rounded, forcing the professor into a corner.

"A. Gossiping. Whoremonger," Thom looked back at him with the same dead eyes he'd had since Rook walked in.

"Don't _look at me_ like that," he whispered.

The professor shook his head like his vision had gone fuzzy. "Like what?" Thom felt the anger rising in him, even after he'd pushed down so many feelings. "Like my reputation is dead? Like my career is dead? Like my life-"

"That ain't got nothin' t'do with me," spat the airman. "I played princess for th'Esar."

The fire rose in Thom's eyes again and Rook almost relaxed. "Doesn't matter what the _fuck_ you did before you told everyone about us and how we-" The airman clapped his hand over the professor's mouth.

"Shut your fucking mouth. Don't know what you're talking about." He turned to go again.

"I know you told the other airmen about it. That's why they look at you funny all the time now!" Rook flung one fist into the dark haired man's gut and another into his chin.

"I didn't tell a bastion-damned soul, you understand? So _shut your fucking mouth_." He began to back away, real slow-like, mind trying to process why it fucking _mattered_ that the rat thought he'd tattled.

"You," gasped Thom. "You… you didn't?"

"No," snapped the airman.

"But I heard you!" The professor's lip started to tremble the slightest bit. Rook had the strangest urge to hold him until it stopped. "You said… I was… 'eating it up'… and not putting up… a fight.. I… you… I heard you!" He crumpled in on himself a little more.

The airman shook his head. "No. You fucking didn't."

"I did!" The professor was shouting now as he charged forward and beat a fist on Rook's chest. "I did… I heard…"

The blond man gave in to the strange urge and wrapped his arms tight around him. "Wasn't fucking about that. Shouldn't eavesdrop," he said gruffly, rubbing tiny circles in the other man's back.

"But… I… _Fuck_," Thom looked up at him with horror in his eyes. "I… You… I…"

Rook was getting tired of single words shit. "You _what_?"

The professor threw up on his shirt and sagged into the airman's arms.

"Fantastic," muttered Rook as he dragged the professor-who-may-not-be-a-rat towards the showers.


End file.
